Teen Age Dreams

I haven’t posted anything a while not cause I didn’t know what to write but things have gotten from steady to shit storm I didn’t see coming. But that’s a story for another time. For now lets get back to my family…

My siblings are what most siblings are, you love them but hate them all at once. My younger brother is 18 a very troubled kid. He had severe depression when he was in grade school and growing up anger management issues as well. I can give the world to him and at the end of the day he can still be mad at me when ask him to take out the trash. When he is normal he can goof around and want to hug you all the time, but when he’s angry watch out for the storm. His weakness, my father. All my dad has to do is tell him that he’s hurting him and he’ll stop instantly. He’s not very social, he doesn’t like being in a crowded room with people he doesn’t know, he feels like he’s being judged constantly. But I suppose that’s how all teenagers are, I was the same way once. He loves music, boy does he love music. I think if he had the option to be at a concert all his life he would take it. He dreams of starting his own band and that’s his main priority. I just hope he’ll be alright when he realizes big dreams hit as big as they come. I feel comfortable with my brother, I can tell him anything without feeling judged. We can spend long nights talking about life and how fucked up it can get.

I think out of everyone my grandmothers death hit him the hardest. He was close to her, spoiled by her. He cried a lot, I wasn’t that close to her but I still miss her. I try to help him through his tough times, when he’s feeling down or stressed. But like my younger self he’s stubborn and foolish. He’s blind to his own childish tantrums, that is why he falls into depression so quickly, believing that no one loves him.

He was put into a loony bin for a while, so close to thanksgiving that I was scared he wasn’t going to be with us for the holidays. He put himself there. In grade school, he had gone to a meeting with my parents with his teacher, they were worried about him because of what he would write. They got home picked up his stuff and left again shortly to take him. I don’t remember how long he was there for but it couldn’t be more than a month. It was the longest month for me, I was worried it wouldn’t be temporary. The day he came back I nearly cried but I held it back and continued on. After that it was several therapy sessions after another to check on his improvement. But it didn’t end there, he stopped going to the sessions because he was supposed to look for another doctor and they never did.  He had scars on the cuts he would make on his arm and one night we went to my aunt’s house and she saw it. When we left, my mom yelled at my brother the whole way home.

When we arrived at the house she went into his room like a tornado sweeping every corner to look for what he was using to cut himself. She yelled at him saying she didn’t know what to do with him anymore and that if he wanted to go back to the home. All he did was put on his hoodie and act like he didn’t care. My dad had finally gotten home from work and confronted my brother, I don’t know exactly what was said. I was in a state where the whole world felt like it was falling apart I was going to lose my brother again, the screams in the background like echoes hitting the wall. But nothing happened. At least I don’t remember anything happening.

It was more than just losing my brother they were observing my parents and threatening to take my younger sister too if anything happened again with my brother. My mom believed it was all my brother over reacting that he needed to suck it up because the world is tough and that he was going to have to deal with it. But it was more than just that, I believe my brother has a hard time coping with death. A loose dog was shot at my doorstep by the police and he felt so bad for that dog’s death he struggled at school again and it was brought to my dad’s attention by a teacher. When we told my mom once again she said he needs to get over it. I understand how my mother thought, to this day I don’t know if my brother was faking it or not. What I do know is after all the shit, the home, him running away, the crying, I’m just glad he’s still around and with us at home.

I still struggle getting through with him, I think as the years go by it gets harder to talk with him. I understand he’s a teenager and at his age he’ll tend to think presently and selfishly but because of that he doesn’t see the damage he leaves to those around him. My sister is becoming his copy which can be a bad thing when it comes to temper.  My mom seems a little more depressed when it comes to the subject of him and I can see it in my dad’s eyes as well. His ‘girlfriend’ which he can’t admit hes with her for the right reasons. Me. He’s disrespected me and said the most awful things to me. When he was off in the hospital doing therapies, running away, or back talking to my mother. Listening to all the heavy shit, it made me worry, it made me cry, it hurt me. Not just because I was scared of losing him, but I just wanted to see him happy. I wanted to take the pain, the depression, I wanted to take it all away just to see him smile again. I want to see him reach his greatest potential rather that’s being in a band or taking pictures professionally…I just want to see him happy.

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